The image of Jordan's mother cradling a bronze-haired little boy and singing him a lullaby after a nightmare seemed in direct contrast to the stern woman who interviewed me.
"More? Please?"
The melodic sound of Jordan's voice to the side of my ear encouraged a sleepy haze to tug my eyelids and I relaxed, molding to his curves. A perfect fit.
Bright light filtered behind my eyelids. Slowly, my senses became alert and I remembered Jordan lying next to me on the bed when I drifted to sleep. My arm reached over for him, feeling nothing. I jerked upright, looking around the room. Blankets folded neatly covered the chair, but no sign of Jordan.
"He went for a run."
Dad's voice startled me. He sat at the small table by the window, his head tucked in the morning newspaper. He remained stuck in the past and refused to read his news on anything digital. "I like the smell of newsprint," he once told me.
"When we get home, Pumpkin, we need to have a serious talk about Jordan Mason."
"Why? Is something wrong?" Did he find Jordan asleep next to me? No. Jordan still lived.
"Not that I'm aware of. I'm more afraid there's something 'right' between the two of you. That's what I want to discuss."
"Great. Not you too," I muttered, gathering bedding and readjusting the sofa. The newspaper shuffled and Dad's eyes burned a hole in the back of my head. Keeping my back turned, I explained. "I'm meeting with Chuck next week."
"Oh? You'd tell me if there's something I need to worry about, right? You know how I hate surprises."
"Yes, I'd tell you, but no, nothing to worry about." Only two ninety-day holds on your daughter. One by a boy you've never met.
Rick rolled the paper and placed it to the side of his coffee mug. "Mars, Jordan asked me if he could take you to that fancy island of theirs for the summer. You'll be eighteen so I can't legally stop you, but I have my concerns, considering his twin will probably be there, too. Does Jordan know you're going to his brother's concert next week, or have you smartened up and decided against it?"
I straddled the chair across the table. "Jesse. He has a name. Yes, I'm still going and Jordan knows. He's not happy about it, but he trusts me."
"Or so you think. You're playing with fire, Mars."
"I like Jess, Dad. He's fun and only pretends to be the bad boy, but he's not in The Program. Nothing serious can happen between us and Jordan knows that."
He swallowed the last of his coffee. "Jordan believes nothing of the sort, I can assure you. Candidacy status won't prevent 'serious' from happening."
"Precisely why Jordan, and apparently you, too, will have to trust me."
"Sorry, but I'm siding with Jordan where his brother is concerned. He's trouble and has you in his cross-hairs. I'd give this summer vacation substantial consideration. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't give Jordan an answer until you've discussed it with Chuck then me." A demand—not a request. "Staying home may be best. They'll both be gone for a couple of months, giving you some time alone," he added.
Two months would also compromise Jordan's ninety-day hold and leave me vulnerable to Doug.
"But you won't stop me if I want to go?"
"This is your life to figure out, Pumpkin. I told Jordan I'd leave the decision up to you." Dad regarded me. "He wants to fly home with you this afternoon. I have a few more items to take care of, but I should be home Sunday night. I can trust the two of you alone, can't I?"
A flicker of last night's fight on the beach passed before my eyes. "Jordan's a stickler for obeying rules. Especially The Program's."
"It's your hormones I worry about, but I don't have a choice. Karen needs your help at the clinic Saturday.
Karen. Topic "A."
"Dad, are you dating Karen?"
Rick's cheeks turned three shades of pink, answering my question. "I'm too busy monitoring your love life to have one of my own." He kissed the top of my head." Right now, we're only close friends, which I wish was the case with you and Mr. Mason."
The thick marine layer cloaking the cemetery provided the perfect eerie setting. Through the mist, Dad stood over a gravesite, a small orb in his hands. Jordan's arms slipped around my waist.
"I'm waiting here. This private moment you need alone with your father." I didn't argue.
My spiked heels dug into the soft ground, pulling up small clumps of grass as I walked across the lawn. Slipping my arm through the crook of Dad's, I snuggled tight to his side. I focused on the words LEAH MARTIN DAVIS elegantly embossed on top of the brass globe and found it hard to believe an entire human fit in the cylinder he held in his shaking hands.
Due to land being at a premium, the government demanded cremation after death. Each family had a small plot assigned with their names engraved on a plaque in the center. A brass button marked where an individual urn lay beneath the grassy surface. As with everything else, the wealthy were the exception, still allowed their gaudy shrines. Whether underground or inside a marble crypt, however, the government-issued brass sphere remained the same.
Dad carefully placed the urn a small concrete box already in place in the ground. I dropped a single white rose on top before he sealed the box, and Grandma inside. Each of us took a handful of moist dirt, sprinkling it ceremoniously over the small grave.
I stepped back, feeling weirdly off-balance. Beneath the small mound of damp loam lay the remains of the person who'd been instrumental in altering my life. All the bottled up anger rushed like a bullet through me. Inside I vehemently screamed I hate you! I clamped my hand over my mouth the keep the spiteful words from escaping. Another stronger emotion doused the flames of hatred. Gratitude muscled past the anger so powerful it dropped me to my knees. If my grandmother hadn't manipulated my life the direction it faced, I'd never have met Jordan.
"I love you, Grandma," burst through a sudden flood of tears, pushing the bubble in the back of my throat away. "I forgive you," came out on a mere whisper, but resounded like a cannon shot in the misty air. The wet grass pricked the skin of my cheek, the coldness of the ground I lay upon, seeping through my skin.
"Mars!" Rick cried out, falling on his knees at my side. I watched Jordan running across the lawn, the picture bent sideways. My dad's arm felt warm around my shoulders, but his voice stayed muted, disconnected. "Pumpkin?" drifted into my brain, registering zero. Jordan's hands framed my face and I wanted to smooth the worry line cutting his forehead.
"Marli? Baby talk to me." His voice drowned out Rick's, his gentle touch reconnecting my mind and body. I threw my arms around his neck, clinging fiercely.
"I love you," I whispered into his ear, feeling his arms tighten in response. "I really love you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."
A whispered response blew soft on my cheek. "I love you more. To the moon and back."
16
COLLISION COURSE
A creepy silence filled the house in Rick's absence. I felt lonely the minute I closed the back door, until Jordan bounced on the landing from the basement.
"No monsters downstairs," he noted gleefully. He insisted on me staying put in the kitchen while he did some "manly" walkthrough, searching for predators that may have broken in during the week and taken up residency. He circled through the living room and ended in front of me, leaning against the kitchen sink.
"What about upstairs? The attic?" I tapped my finger against the cabinet door behind me. "I've been afraid to look under the sink. How many do you think could be hiding in there?"
"You're mocking me. I'm looking out for your safety—risking my life, and you dare to poke fun?" His hands traveled the well-used route above my hips, squeezing out any airspace between us. "And, I thought we'd check upstairs, together."
"You're so dramatic," I giggled when his lips skimmed my neck before pressing the sensitive spot below my ear—the trigger switch to my lust meter.
Our bodies, like magnets, cemented together. Jordan's kisses had changed. Instead of careful and hesitant, they had an eager, hungry feel to
them, sending frightening thrills rippling throughout my body—thrills I no longer wished to ignore. Playing intimate contact sports on the beach moved our relationship to another phase, and keeping within required boundaries could prove challenging.
Jordan carried my bag to my room. An awkward silence pervaded the space. Both of us glanced at my bed and Jordan's Adam's apple rolled several times. "I'll sleep downstairs."
"No, stay with me," I begged. "I don't want to be alone. Not after everything..."
His lips took my thought, giving me his answer. I honestly feared shutting my eyes, worried the nightmare I witnessed yesterday would somehow find a corner of my mind to nest.
"Quilt stays between us," he declared.
While Jordan took his turn in the shower, I decided to call Doug, getting only voicemail again. Could he be that upset with me? I logged onto my computer to check my messages. A dozen from Alex and Brittany, one from Sam, but nothing from Doug.
I opened Sam's.
Marli, sorry to hear about your grandma. Death sucks. Sorry I was an ass and messed things up. Forgive me someday? I heard you went to Alaska. What's that all about? Never mind. Not my business. Still love you. Probably always will. That sucks major too. —Sam.
Jordan sneaked behind me, shuffling a towel over his head. "Hard to keep a secret in this town."
My heart ricocheted in my chest. "You scared the daylights out of me!"
"I hope not, I love your daylights almost as much as your nightlights." He kissed the top of my head. "Poor kid may never get over you."
I swiveled the chair and immediately forgot Sam. Jordan's hair stuck out in a wet, sexy mess. Beads of water clinging like final drops of rain fell onto his shoulders and wandered in tiny streams over his chest, moistening a thin line of hair that disappeared someplace I blushed hot thinking about. When he leaned forward to read Sam's message, I couldn't take it any longer and kissed his stomach.
"Marli..." In one move, Jordan lifted me off the chair onto the desk. I wrapped my legs around his hips and tugged the ends of the damp towel cradling his neck. His hands locked under my thighs holding me against him. His lips felt warm on mine, the inside of his mouth tasting minty. A slow burn grew low.
"You taste good," I rasped, letting my fingers slide through his damp locks of hair.
"And you're dangerous."
I returned to his eager mouth, our kisses taking on a feverish urgency. I crossed my ankles at the base of his spine, and warm, damp hands slipped under my tank top, sliding up my back to keep my body fused to his. His tongue invaded my mouth, demanding attention, darting deep, mine chasing back into his. I kissed his neck; he nibbled my ear. We switched actions, teasing each other, our hands exploring.
I wondered if Jordan tingled everywhere like me, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Did he want to shut out the world, ignore the inner voices screaming we crossed boundaries, and just give in to what our bodies wanted?
Still maintaining a leggy belt around his hips, I eased my arms around his neck, locking my wandering fingers into a safe hold. "It scares me, you know."
Jordan took the cue to slow down, moving his hands to bracket my waist. He pressed a breathy kiss to my forehead.
"What scares you?"
"The whole sex thing."
His body stiffened. He unlocked my hands from behind his neck and held them against his chest. His heart still bounced hard beneath the muscle I touched. He turned his gaze out the window for a second, taking a deep swallow before speaking. His voice cracked.
"Wh—why? Are you nervous about…I mean the first time…"
"I know the basics and Alex loves to fill in details, it's just—" I dropped my legs and tucked my head beneath Jordan's chin. "I don't know why I'm talking about this," I mumbled into his chest.
Jordan pushed me back a little, still keeping my hands prisoner in his grasp. "Because you're obviously worried and considering how fast things seem to be moving between us, maybe we should talk." He flicked the end of my nose with his thumb, a gentle smile stretching between his dimples. "Come on. Worst fear? That sex will hurt?"
"Ack!" I threw my head back and Jordan kissed my neck, nipping to below my ear.
"You just have to take it slow, be gentle, or so I'm told." I grabbed Jordan's face, a bright crimson color brightening the whites of his eyes. He laughed and kissed my palm. "I work with my own set of 'Alexes.'"
Unable to make eye contact, I played with his fingers. "What if I'm not…I mean, I don't even know if I'm a good kisser."
"Are you nuts?" Jordan tipped my face up with a finger. "Babe, your kisses are addicting. Why do you think I'm always trying to suck your lips off?" I tried to turn my head, mortified I'd said anything in the first place, but Jordan grabbed my shoulders. "Marli, don't." His knuckles gently brushed the side of my face. "Trust me, whoever is your 'first' will be one lucky guy."
A tender sentiment, but not the one I wished he said. "Whoever" left everything suspended and unattached. My "first time" still belonged to some stranger, apparently. No commitment voiced—no "our first time."
Jordan playfully bit my lip, following up with an uncertain light kiss. "Hey. Where are you?" His tongue slid between my lips, slow, deliberate "Come back to me." Unable to hold another thought, I took his mouth, meeting his demanding kisses with my own, awakening the hot tendrils stretching through my body. I broke away, breathless.
"Sometimes I'm scared I'm going to fall off the ledge. Like right now."
"I'll be falling with you," he promised on my lips before stepping back. "But not tonight. I made a promise to Rick—one I'm going to find damn hard to keep."
During the night, the quilt disappeared and Jordan slept "undercover," his body a warm vine around mine. I turned in his arms, nestled my face into the small patch of soft hair on his chest, winding my bare legs through his. Our bodies settled intimately against each other and I moaned, still suspended between sleep and awake.
"Damn! Marli, wake up." Jordan hissed, trying to untangle his legs from mine.
I reached around his waist, pulling myself tighter to his body and hooked my leg over his hip. "Five more minutes."
"NO!" The bed shifted and I suddenly reached for an empty pillow.
"Huh?" The cobwebs of sleep swiftly tore apart. I rose, trying to focus in the early morning shadows. Jordan stood with his back to me, pulling on his jeans.
"Jordan?" I turned and looked at the clock. "It's barely six o'clock. Where are you going?"
"Out of your room. Away from you." He picked my robe off the hook on the door and tossed it to me. "Cover up before I change my mind and climb back into bed with you, only this time, I won't be responsible for what happens. Jordan glanced over his shoulder. "You scared the crap out of me when your body shifted…where it should, but can't."
I pushed my arms through my robe sleeves. "What do you mean?"
Jordan looked at me in disbelief. "Seriously, Marli? I can barely zip my jeans." When he tugged his T-shirt over his head, I noticed the top button on his fly still undone. My naïve mind suddenly caught on.
"Oh!"
"Yeah. Oh," he laughed, his cheeks glowing. "My body is doing one hell of a job reminding me that sleeping next to you isn't a good idea."
"Whatever. I happen to think it's the best idea, but remember, I'm not the one who broke through the quilt fortress." I shouldn't have, but I started laughing. Jordan's face transformed through so many shades of red, I couldn't stop.
He pulled his shirt lower, over his body's obvious betrayal. "I'm taking my last shred of dignity and leaving this room before my lust-crazed demons take over. I'll scare up some breakfast while you get dressed.
Throughout breakfast, I fought the urge to giggle. Jordan's cheeks flared a rosy tint whenever our eyes met. He always remained in control and my lust-crazed demons enjoyed knowing I caused him to lose a little of that restraint. I placed the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, feeling fingers lightly tickle my ribs and teeth rake my earlobe.
"Where did Mr. Moral go?" I teased, turning in his arms. Jordan leaned in, taking a long delicious taste off my mouth. "I lied. I loved waking with you in my arms, Marli."
I returned his kiss, lingering close enough to feel his breath on my cheek. "Not as much as I loved being there." A familiar warmth squiggled through my body. "Damn Program," I mumbled against his mouth after breaking from another intense lip lock.
The mere mention of The Program killed the mood immediately. Jordan pushed away to a respectable distance, "About that. We should be more careful."
"Ugh! Any more careful and shaking hands will be off limits. We can't be the only candidates The Program watches." Jordan's eyes fell. Based on his body posture mirroring the day on the beach, this had something to do with his secret.
"What?" I pressed, feeling a touch of anger prick.
"Nothing."
The pat answer. The one that made me feel inferior, as if I couldn't handle whatever he kept hidden. Maybe he still didn't trust me. Whatever the reason, it awakened the untamed, immature monster I always shoved down.
"Right. Nothing. Again." I reached for my keys, only to have his hand wrap my wrist.
"Marli, don't be cross with me. I have to leave in a couple of hours and it's going to be weeks before we see each other again."
I didn't want to spend the time fighting either, but my obstinate alter ego wouldn't let go. "It's the same thing you couldn't tell me before, isn't it? Something to do with The Program?" A nod in acknowledgment. I tapped my foot nervously. "I told you I hate secrets, Jordan."
Unless they're mine.
"I know. I'm sorry, but you have to go with me on this." Jordan pulled me closer, kissing the wrist he held. "I will tell you when I can, okay?" He wiggled his nose against mine and I laughed, surrendering to his playfulness.
"Do you want to come with me to get Muffy?"
"Not even a little. I've got some calls to make, but you have fun." He kissed my pouty mouth. "Hurry back to me."
Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut Page 18